The Art of Love

by Kayla C. Oliver

  I narrowed my eyes at him. It was stupid, I knew it was stupid, but I didn’t like the idea of him sitting in her office, staring at her legs, grinning cheekily at her while he flirted carelessly. She’d said she wasn’t going to offer him anything like that, but what did I know about her?

  And why the hell do I care whether someone else looks at her?

  Shaking my head, I sighed. “Yes, fine, she’s pretty. Can we focus on the fact that you are seriously taking calls from my biggest rival while eating dirty water hot dogs with me?”

  “I already finished my dogs.”

  I groaned. “Damn it, Trent! Focus! That’s not the damn point.”

  “What’s the point again?”

  I hated it when he played dumb. He’d been following the conversation all along, no question, and it irked me to no end that he could stand there and pretend like he was an idiot.

  He is an idiot, I thought mercilessly. Just not the kind that doesn’t know what I’m talking about.

  “The point is that you’re fraternizing with the enemy!”

  Which, if I were being honest with myself, I’d been doing more of than him.

  He cocked his head, giving me a considering look. After a moment, he said, “I have a meeting. That’s part of the wooing, isn’t it?”

  “Damn it,” I said again. “I knew it. What’s she offering you? What’s in the contract? I’ll meet it and do better, whatever it is.”

  I knew this wasn’t the smart way to negotiate. Under normal circumstances, it wasn’t the way I’d negotiate at all. I was more of a take-it-or-leave-it kind of man, but at that moment I was so worked up over Marnie—sexy, long-legged, no-panty-wearing Marnie with those freckles and all that perfect, delectable pink—that I didn’t care if I came off as desperate. All I wanted was to win.

  Trent waved me off. “Don’t be an ass. We’re still working out the details. We’re negotiating the contract, and even if we’d settled on something, I wouldn’t go and tell you. That just doesn’t seem right.”

  “You’re out of your damn mind, you know it?”

  Trent didn’t care. He just shrugged, then checked his wristwatch. “Look, we’ll set up another meeting, okay? A legit business one and we can talk about details then. Otherwise, leave it alone. I’m not going to talk to Callum my friend about this.”

  I might have stood there and argued with him all day, but what was the point? When he was set on something, that was it. There would be no ground to be gained. If I wanted to derail this, I was going to have to get creative.

  My eyes landed on the last hot dog between us, gripped in Trent’s large hand. For Sara.

  I had to bite back a smirk as I finally landed on a plan.

  “Fine, you want to be a jerk, be a jerk,” I told him, holding up my hands. “Clearly if I want some prime business meeting times set up, I’m going to have to go over your head.”

  His brow furrowed, the corners of his mouth turning down slightly in a frown. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that if I want a decent fucking meeting with you, I’ll clearly have to go through Sara.” I held out my hand, palm up. When he just stared at it, I wiggled my fingers. “Give me the hot dog. If I want to butter her up, I’ll need something to bribe her with.”

  Finally catching on, Trent laughed a deep belly laugh, then shook his head. “You’re smart, I’ll give you that. Too bad you couldn’t put those brains to better use.”

  “Just give me the damn dog.” He handed it over, and I made a face at it. “I can’t believe she likes sauerkraut. Nasty.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t bitch. I just give her what she likes so she won’t get all Stephen King on me.”

  “Stephen King?”

  “Misery.”

  I chuckled. “Good point. I think I won’t mention the sauerkraut.”

  He nodded sagely. “Good call.”

  We parted then, him heading presumably to a fucking meeting with the sexy, infuriating, pain in my ass Marnie McKenna, and me to charm poor, unsuspecting Sara.

  I went to Trent’s home that he split with Sara, which was a condo larger than anyone in Seattle had any right to afford. It was funny because Sara’s income came mainly from working for Trent, and Trent’s income came from writing. In a way, he was supporting them both, though there was no question that Sara earned it.

  I pressed the buzzer for the lower level, then waited. A second later, a sweet voice came through over the intercom.

  “Yes?”

  “Hey, sweetheart, this is Callum. Mind if I come up for a bit?”

  There was a pause, then, “Of course. I’ll, uh, buzz you in.”

  She did so and I headed inside. I headed toward the stairs, because the lower levels were used primarily for the kitchen and dining room while the second floor was the living space. That included both their bedrooms, an extended hallway that acted as Sara’s office, and a third room where Trent did his work. I’d been here several times, though usually Trent and I met away from those personal areas we liked to call home.

  I made it up only a couple of steps before I spotted little Sara standing at the top. She smiled brightly at me, making her look even younger than she already did. Her dark hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun, and she was wearing her reading glasses. She seemed to realize that at the same moment I did, because she blushed, then snatched them off her face.

  “Hi, Callum, what a surprise,” she said, her smile so wide it looked like it could have hurt. “I, uh, wasn’t expecting you.”

  She reached up and jerked her hair out of the messy bun, letting it tumble down past her shoulders. It was thick and healthy, dark and “exotic” to some, but all I could do was think of auburn hair tumbling across the pillows as she arched her back, pointing her breasts to the sky…

  Damn it, I need to stop thinking about Marnie.

  “Yeah, I thought I’d stop by and see how you’re doing.” I held up the hot dog. “I come bearing gifts.”

  Her eyes glittered in pleasure at the sight of the dog. If I’d known it was so easy to please women, I’d bring them all dirty water hot dogs. “C’mon up, then,” she told me and turned around to head back.

  I followed her the rest of the way up the stairs and then down the hall toward her little office. It wasn’t much more than a desk and a couple of chairs, but there was enough for both of us to sit and for her to work comfortably. In the end, I guessed that was all that mattered.

  “Trent’s not here,” she told me apologetically, wincing as she said it, like I might be put out by the news.

  I waved it off. “Oh, I know. We were out just now. I actually came to see you.”

  Her eyes widened to the size of teacup saucers.

  I knew it wasn’t fair. Sara had had a crush on me since forever it seemed, and I knew that at this moment, I was taking advantage of that. Using her affection for me wasn’t right, but I rationalized it to myself easily.

  I wasn’t using it to get her into bed.

  I wasn’t making her any eternal and everlasting love commitments.

  I was just sitting here, giving her a hot dog and making some conversation. There wasn’t anything wrong with that, was there?

  You’re an asshole, Callum Reid, and you fucking know it.

  The problem was, I couldn’t make myself care right in that moment.

  “I… well, I mean, that’s great. I, um, haven’t seen you in a while.”

  “I know. I should really stop by more often,” I said by way of apology. “How have you been? I can tell you’ve got your work cut out for you keeping Trent in line.”

  She laughed, a frilly little sound that was at odds with the well-put-together woman it belonged to. Sometimes she seemed wise for her years, and at other times she still seemed like a little kid. “Oh, um, thanks. I’m… I’ve been good. Not much excitement in my life, but Trent keeps it interesting. Especially with the whole S&W Publishing thing. I can’t believe he’s still even talking to them.”

 
; She snapped her mouth shut abruptly, her eyes going wide as she stared at me in horror after what she’d just said. “Jesus, I’m sorry. Not that he’d ever—I mean, there’s no question he’s loyal—I think he’s just jerking everyone around.” She winced. “Sorry.”

  I held up a hand and forced an easy laugh. Although it did irk me to think that he was in talks with some other publishing house, it wasn’t news to me, so I handled it well. “No, it’s okay. I want Trent to do what’s best for Trent. I have confidence that he’ll pick the best company in the end, right?”

  I offered a winning smile, and she melted a little more.

  “Yeah,” she agreed, nodding her head vehemently. “Absolutely.”

  There was a long stretch of silence between us, and it was deliberate on my part. I let my smile fade and pulled my brow together, just slightly so that it pinched in the middle above my nose. I pursed my lips, not in anger, but in worry, confusion. I looked down and away from Sara, just slightly, as though gazing off into the distance.

  “Callum? Are you okay?”

  Bingo, I thought.

  Shaking my head as though I was deliberately pulling myself from my thoughts, I offered Sara a half smile. “Sorry. Got lost for a minute there.”

  “What were you thinking about just now?” she asked, because she was a sweetheart and just couldn’t help it.

  I felt a little guilty, but not that guilty. I wasn’t doing any harm to anyone. “Oh, it’s nothing.”

  She sat up a little straighter, pulling her chair in toward the table so that she was a little closer to me. “No, please, tell me. What is it?”

  “It’s stupid,” I told her, reeling her in. “I just worry about him, you know? Normally, we’d have this meeting together—with the other publisher—and discuss whether or not they’re really giving him a good deal. But we had a little tiff, and now I think maybe he’s going to just go with it, because he’s mad at me. What if he makes a horrible deal? It would be all my fault.”

  “No! Of course it wouldn’t be your fault,” she said instantly, her no a little louder than it should have been. She blushed in embarrassment but forged ahead, anyway. “And I’m sure he wouldn’t do that.”

  I hesitated. “I’m not. He was pretty mad.”

  She frowned. “I could call him—he’s got a meeting this afternoon, but…” She was reaching for her cell at the same time she was looking through the daily planner she had sitting on her desk. When she found whatever she was looking for there, she stood and made her call to Trent. While she began pacing, I stood quickly and pulled out my own cell. I found the camera function and positioned it over the planner. I took pictures, then turned the page. While she was on the phone, I flipped through as many pages as I could, finding scribbled-in meetings with locations and times.

  Jackpot, I thought.

  When Sara came back, she looked frustrated. “He’s such an ass sometimes. He says you’re being ridiculous and taking things too personally. He says you guys are fine, and he’s not going to make any rash decisions.” She rolled her eyes in exasperation. “I swear, you guys are like kids sometimes. But that’s good, right? No big deal, nothing to worry about.”

  I smiled sweetly at her. “You are one hundred percent right, Sara. Thank you. I can honestly say, you’ve made my day better.”

  She blushed again, smiling goofily at me. I feigned getting a work call and told her I had to go. She was disappointed but clearly still riding that little high I gave her from the compliment.

  See? No harm. Everyone leaves getting what they wanted.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Marnie

  Parker picked the coffee shop for our meeting, which was why I was stuck at this little hipster joint that was flooded with self-righteous, have no idea what the real world is like, “I liked that before it was cool” college students. It was enough to give me a headache from rolling my eyes, and the coffee was terrible to boot. I didn’t know what they put in it—or didn’t put in it—but your best hope was to drink it while it was scalding in an effort to burn off your taste buds before you had to suffer.

  It had taken almost a week of wheedling and Courtney working things out with his agent, but I finally had another meeting with Parker. He was a pain in my ass, and I wanted to tell him as much, but I kept reminding myself of the promotion. Partner. It was all I’d ever wanted and, damn it, I’d worked hard to get here. I wasn’t about to let it slip away now because he thought he was all that and a bag of chips.

  He’d spent the last twenty minutes ordering a cup of damn drip coffee just so he could flirt with the waitress. She looked about eighteen and giggled so much I wondered if she’d been inhaling the helium out of a balloon.

  He’s still ordering coffee, I texted Courtney as I waited.

  “Thanks, honey,” he told the pretty, ditzy little waitress. She giggled again, then wiggled her fingers before turning away and sauntering to the counter to get his coffee. Mine had already come out, and I would be on my second cup if it hadn’t tasted so disgusting the first time around.

  Turning to face me, he smiled pleasantly, then leaned back in his chair. “I’m thinking of going with another publisher,” he told me up front. “What do you have to offer me that’ll change my mind?”

  For half a second I thought he was talking sexual favors, but I quickly dismissed it. The flirtatious man who had been eye-fucking the waitress as he ordered had disappeared to be replaced by the calm, formal businessman in front of me. It was a hell of a change.

  “I believe we’d begun discussions earlier on a contract,” I began, reaching for my sleek briefcase and setting it on the table beside us. I flicked open the locks, then popped the lid. Digging around for a moment, I pulled out the contract. “I believe we’d discussed e-book publishing rights—one year free, five years thereafter belong to S&W—free reign over the cover, edits to be discussed—”

  “No drastic edits,” he corrected immediately. “You get to chew my ass over a plot hole, that’s it.”

  I pursed my lips but nodded. “Or if your work violates our publishing guidelines.”

  He waved this off like he wasn’t concerned. Honestly, I wasn’t either, really, but I wasn’t taking chances with this one. This was my shot at partner, and I wasn’t fucking it up.

  “I also get last call on grammar and punctuation.”

  He nodded.

  I continued. “Movie rights—”

  “Belong entirely to me.”

  “Under the condition that you wait one year and allow us to look at sales before moving forward with production.”

  “Sounds right.”

  I glanced over the notes I’d scribbled over the contract after our initial meeting, making sure that I could meet Parker’s needs, but also that I could stay true to the company. The e-book rights were going to piss Dorian off, and the movie rights were a bitch, but I accepted that I’d be taking a hit there. Honestly, Parker was a big enough name that I was surprised he was willing to give up five years to us on the e-book.

  Shuffling the papers, I laid them out in front of us, then folded my hands over them. I looked Parker in the eye and smiled. “Mr. Parker, I want you to know that we are committed—”

  “To your own profits,” he finished easily. He held up a hand to stop the protests that were already bubbling up my throat. “Don’t worry, I don’t hold it against you. That’s just being in the business. I’m not worried about it. You make profits, I make profits, everyone wins. That’s not my concern.”

  “Then what is your concern, Mr. Parker? I think we’ve been pretty generous here.”

  He shrugged. “You have. I’m just not convinced. My last publisher was great—for several years. Then this last book they bungled so bad that not only would I never go back to them, but I wouldn’t recommend them to anyone else. How do I know that you’ll be any more consistent than that?”

  I frowned. “With all due respect, sir, you don’t.”

  His eyebrows rose in surpris
e, a small hint of a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.

  I sat up taller, straightening my shoulders. “We are committed to our clients. And yes, this is a for-profit business, but you seem pretty savvy in regards to the business world, so let me break it down. If you’re happy, we’re happy. Why? Because we get better reviews. We get a better reputation. Suddenly, we’re the people everyone goes to. Which means we make more money. We can increase our profit margin and, ultimately, beat out the competition.”

  I was talking about Tarvish Press, of course, but he didn’t need to know that. He probably did, anyway, but I wasn’t going to bring it up.

  “That’s a lot of incentive for us to do our job well. And me?” I pointed toward myself for emphasis. “I’ve got a lot riding on this. I’m the one who bends over backward for my clients, because it makes my reputation better. Which means I get more clients. And you can guess that it all gets better for me from there.

  “So, no. You have no guarantee. I can blow sunshine up your ass and make you a thousand promises that I probably can’t keep and you don’t believe I’ll even try to keep, or I can tell you how it is right here. I want your business. That’s for selfish reasons, but you’ll benefit from those selfish reasons. That, in my mind, is a win-win for everyone.”

  I let my words hang there in the air, sinking in and hopefully swaying him over to my side. I knew I was fighting an uphill battle, but I had weapons in my arsenal. I hadn’t yet implemented my plan, but I would. If I couldn’t convince him to sign with us through the power of my words, I’d use less reputable tactics.

  Before he answered, the pretty little waif of a waitress came back with his coffee. “Here you go,” she said brightly, giggling again, but he didn’t even seem to notice her this time.

  Absently, he said, “Thank you,” but otherwise didn’t even look at her. His focus was on me and the contract, telling me that for all his flirting, he wasn’t so very invested in the opposite sex.

  I wonder if the flirtatious behavior is just a front?

  I didn’t have time to dwell on the idea, because he leaned forward then. Lacing his fingers together, his elbows on the table, he said, “That’s a hell of a speech you got there. I’m impressed. You know what you’re doing, I’ll give you that.”